


To Trap a Dragon's Heart

by Yumi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police & Yakuza, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Character Development, Cop Gabriel, Cop Jack, Enemies to Lovers, Hate to Love, M/M, Past Talon McCree, Secretary Satya, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Yakuza, Yakuza Genji Shimada, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada, Yakuza Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-18 18:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14218914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumi/pseuds/Yumi
Summary: Shimada Hanzo wants nothing more than to follow his father's footsteps by making his clan succeed. Jesse McCree wants nothing more than to have an objective in his life. When a fated meeting between them occurs, Hanzo wished for once that his brother's imaginary spirit dragon was real enough to decimate this fool of a cowboy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Quick breakdown:
> 
> Yakuza AU, so no omnics, ryu ga waka wakas, and any otherworldly things. The setting is however abstracted from the Overwatch universe, so expect familiar places and names to pop up from time to time! I hope you enjoy this story with me :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me, and any references are purely coincidental and non-intentional representations. This is a fictional story that does not reflect our real world, and is weaved in a slightly eccentric manner that is purely for entertainment purposes. The whole race/ethnicity thing is out of this world and I kinda just named them as I deem fit.
> 
> Just some brief notes on the random naming:
> 
> Ranfa - Blue flower  
> Akagana - Red flower 
> 
> names were a pure coincidence lul.

“Shimada-dono,” a lady greeted from behind the door with a few raps to it. Hanzo didn't miss the tone that had intention of delivering news; something he could do well without at nine am in the morning. Nevertheless, Hanzo gave a soft grunt in reply, acknowledging his secretary's entry and she stepped inside the large bedroom.

He wasn't dressed proper for work, but he had his hakama on, not that it would bother either party if he was undressed. Without looking at her, he proceeded to bunch his past-shoulder length hair and fixed it to a high ponytail. Aswani Satya waited for him to finish his task, but just as she was about to speak when he was done, he raised a hand.

“Please do not tell me that I have to attend tonight's gathering at Ranfa-gumi's.”

Without breaking a single expression, she replied: “You have to attend tonight's gathering at Ranfa-gumi's.”

“I'd rather not. Their peace-making gatherings are a bore,” Hanzo gruffed out as he straightened his clothing. “As much as I find the act respectable, their ceremonies are treacherously more tedious to sit through that Genji's pointless banters. The old men are even worse to entertain.”

Satya let out a crooked smile on her features as she swiped her tablet, fully understanding her bosses' sentiments. “Kumichou's resting absence means that it is your responsibility to attend such occasions in his place. Whilst I agree with your last statement, this might change your mind,” she turned the device and presented it to Hanzo.

The young master frowned and took the tablet, screening the contents for a moment before meeting his secretary eye to eye with a scowl on his face.

“He has returned?”

Satya nodded. “It seems like his little 'tryst' in the western continents had come to an end. He will be present at Ranfa-gumi's gathering with his new subordinate he had picked up from the west, apparently.”

Hanzo scoffed, returning Satya her tablet. “Six years and Sugimoto brings back a lapdog. I'm surprised he hasn't dried his thickened skin to prunes yet.”

“There has been a rumor that he had made successful dealings with the Talon company in the west. The so-called 'lapdog' you have addressed so is a man by the name of Jesse McCree. He used to be a mere Talon grunt, but it seems like he's received a big promotion.”

A grunt escaped the young master of Shimada-gumi and he proceeded to the door with Satya at his heels.

“I've been doing a background check the moment I was informed that Sugimoto was back in the country. I require a little more time for in-depth information, but superficially, what has caught Sugimoto's attention is McCree's unrivaled gunmanship.”

Hanzo would have rolled his eyes if it weren't for his disciplinary teachings that 'eye-rolling' was an unprofessional and childish act.

“We shall see about that. Organise the evening's trip to Ranfa-gumi's estate.”

“Understood, Shimada-dono.”

* * *

 

  
Evening came a lot quicker than Hanzo liked. He had spent his day doing his so-called job – an IT crew member in a small, average company. They knew nothing of his true background and he'd keep it favourably so – the Shimada-gumi has been showered with mixed reception and they are only welcomed by a handful of people.

His father, Shimada Soujirou, had questioned his intentions of taking up such a mundane job when their clan had sufficient power and money to rule countries. Hanzo merely shrugged him off and claimed that he wished to see things from a different angle. Normalcy, if he had to describe otherwise. The common folks lived extremely differently, haunted by different worries like if they could fit in the train during the peak hours. Conversation about daily lives grounded his status and reminded him of the things the went on without his knowledge if he was only walled by the environment of the yakuza. Another reason he gave his father was that extracting knowledge in such grounds personally was easier than stake-outs by the members. He'd received information first-handed.

For the benefit of the job, he had changed his last name to Sakuguchi. He stayed out of the media, letting his father steal the spotlight should there be such. Everyone knew that Shimada Soujirou had two sons that had the names of Hanzo and Genji, but whilst the names were uncommon, to Hanzo's work mates, his personality was far from the rumored 'cruel and evil' gangsters. They'd even tease him sometimes and claim that he could try for (ironically) being yakuza. He'd merely give a hearty laugh and claim that he'd rather do a desk job. He was lying, yes, but it was necessary to adopt several personalities depending on the situation.

His casual day job as a IT personnel meant that he could stride in plain sleeved tops and jeans. However, currently at the estate of the Ranfa clan, he was completely different. Sakuguchi Hanzo bled back into his true persona. Stoic with his head held high, Shimada Hanzo adorned a long, black coat draped over his extravagant blue suit and tie. He chose not to wear the sleeves proper, allowing his arms to cross over his chest. He oozed strength and power, and any person who chose to lay his eyes on him did it out of respect or fear. He relished in both.

Satya was dressed smartly in a collared shirt, matching blue vest and knee-length pencil skirt. She flanked him closely, serving her duty not only as his secretary, but his trusted body guard. Her tablet sits in her arms, but in her three inch heels she walked with a poise that made her unapproachable. She preferred it that way.

Despite hosting nearly a hundred people, it was easy to seek his target for the evening when Ranfa-gumi's enthusiastic parties included a tradition of announcing the arrival of their guests. Hanzo would have appreciated that he was spared of the embarrassing public attention, but he had little choice. The moment he entered the halls of the estate, an announcement blared his arrival (Young Lord Shimada Hanzo of the Shimadagumi has arrived!). Because of that, he had to force himself to interact with people for formality's sake.

Most were mere greetings and how-do-you-dos, and the conversations lasted no more than five sentences. Foreign clan members were also present and Hanzo avoided them as much as he could. Ranfa-gumi was one of the smaller yet well-received clans due to their hospitality and unusually friendly nature. Their current leader was Zhou Mei-Ling, the daughter of the late clan leader. For someone who was brought up in a clan of gangsters, her personality didn't show a lick of hostility. She was a sweet young lady whose charisma won hearts of both allies and enemies. She is a peace-maker, choosing to extend a helping hand out to those in need regardless of their status. Her aid was genuine without a demand for repayment, and many clans flocked to hers naturally.

Hanzo knew his father yearned for Shimada-gumi for the same light, but it was difficult as someone had to play the bad guy. Not that Shimada-gumi was notorious or anything, but the garnered reputation were sometimes unfortunate and accidental. It may not have been the clan's fault, but what was done was done. It was hard to change the perspective of others on Shimada-gumi, but Hanzo intends to take his steps in the same direction as his father; ruling for the respect, but not the repulsion for the clan.

“Master Sugimoto Soushi of the Akagana-gumi has arrived!” An announcement boomed. Those who showed interest would turn to look, and Hanzo was one of them. The moment his eyes were set on the new duo who entered the doors, he could feel his chest flare in irritation.

Sugimoto was dressed smartly, suit and cloak but with the extra gold scarfing that draped down his chest. His receding hair was pulled the side, neatly kept. The old man strutted into the room as if he owned the place, raising his hand to greet the people who raised their glasses in his direction. On the other end of the spectrum, just behind him was the sight of a person whom Hanzo was a thousand percent sure shouldn't be here.

It was a westerner, dressed in a collared white shirt, black blazer and straight cut pants with brown leather shoes. However, unlike just about everyone else in the formal event who were dressed kempt and proper, this man was missing not only his tie but kept the buttons of his shirt open, revealing a nest of unsightly chest hair. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was wearing a cowboy hat over a mess of brown locks. Unrefined and clearly undisciplined by the way a cigar hangs off his lips and hands pocketed.

“ _That_ is Jesse McCree?” Hanzo turned to his secretary and scowled.

“Very much so. At least his looks in the photos is reflected accurately,” Satya hummed. She could tell that her boss was irated by the man's physical outlook alone as he was a stickler for proper.

“Sugimoto is clearly losing more than his hair if he chose this mutt to be his right-hand man,” Hanzo growled out softly.

“Perhaps...” The lady's gaze flickered in a manner that Hanzo recognised and he straightened himself up as he turned to face the other guests approaching. To his dismay, it had been the new arrivals. Sugimoto took a spot before him, and just behind him stood Jesse McCree. Up close, he could see the man's chiseled jaw angle behind the mess of a beard. It further irked him that the man was taller by a few inches.

“Young Lord Shimada,” Sugimoto greeted and stretched his hand out. As much as Hanzo didn't want to take the chunky sweat-slicked hand with gold rings, he had little choice in front of other people. Plus, he knew better than to insult the honourable guests of Zhou's. He took the hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Sugimoto-kumichou,” he returned the greeting with a small bow before letting go.

“It's been a long time since we've last seen each other! How is your father? I was told he was unwell. It would be such a shame if he didn't make it,” the old man chuckled to himself as if it were a joke. Hanzo chose not to fall for the sly fox's underlying insult.

“Fortunately, my father is recovering well and merely taking a short break from clan matters, hence my presence in his place today.” His gaze flickered to the westerner with the fullest intention of diverting the topic. McCree is a good target which killed two birds with a stone. He was not the only person in the room whose attention was on the tall, scruffy individual.

Clan leaders with right or left hand-men of other backgrounds was not unusual; Satya herself was from Hyderabad, India, but Hanzo trusted her with his life. She was taken in by his father at a young age, saved from the depths of poverty, and had been devoted to Shimada-gumi since. They were of similar ages, and interacted a lot in their younger ages. When Hanzo turned twenty, Soujirou offered Satya to Hanzo and he took her as his right-hand man in a heartbeat. She was skilled, organised and unrivaled with it came to duties, and Hanzo couldn't ask for more.

In contrast... Hanzo's gaze narrowed at the man who showed little respect by meeting him with a direct gaze. “It seems like you've picked up something new.”

Sugimoto glanced over his shoulder before raising his hand to introduce. “Indeed. This is Jesse McCree. He's from Sante Fe, and he's been a remarkable assistant.”

“Howdy.” No formal greeting was returned; not a handshake or a bow. Instead, the man tilted his damn hat and grinned behind the cigar sandwiched between his teeth. Hanzo could feel his vein twitch.

“With that, do excuse me, Young Lord Shimada. I do have other businesses to attend to,” Sugimoto waved his hand with a shit-eating grin and he turned away. Once more, McCree simply tilted his hat and followed his boss.

Hanzo gritted his teeth, before turning to his secretary and jerking his head subtly. Satya nodded to the signal, understanding his intentions. Wanting a quieter location to speak, he strode over to the side of the hall where less people congregated as most were flocking around the food and drink bars in the centre. He did pick up a glass of wine along the way as a waiter passed him.

When the two of them were out of the main circle of people, Hanzo downed his drink and let out a harsh, exhale. “I cannot believe Sugimoto picked up a mutt from the desert and assigned him as his right hand man. What happened to the last one? I remembered that it was some lanky Ordanian fellow. At least that person had a pinch of manners.”

“Sugimoto-kumichou's last man was reportedly killed in action. While there is no concrete evidence, the on-going rumor is that Jesse McCree might have been behind it in order to win his place.”

“So he simply takes in the man who kills his right hand man? This is not an escalation of the ladder where one man wins by a single step,” Hanzo ground out. Satya managed to pick the delicate wine glass before the neck broke.

“Sugimoto-kumichou has always been known to break from traditions. He cares little about them, believing that it is a backdated thinking that prevents society from advancing.” The lady checks that the glass had not been damaged. “Let me put this away before someone gets hurt.”

Hanzo scoffed at his secretary's insinuation.

Just as Satya disappeared into the crowd, it would have been no coincidence that the topic of the night had reappeared before him. Sugimoto was no where in sight, and only the cowboy-hat clad male was approaching him. There was yet another tilt of his annoying hat (who the hell wears it indoors anyway) and McCree grinned at him.

“Howdy again, Young Lord.”

“How far have you decided to stray from your master?” Hanzo questioned snappily. It wasn't his intention, but the man's lack of discipline was getting on his nerves as the seconds passed.

Leather gloved hands were raised in surrender. “Hey now, seems like we started off on the wrong foot. Ain't trying to pick a fight or anything.”

From the crowd, he could see Satya emerge and was furiously about to step in when she saw McCree speaking to him. Quickly, but casually, he raised his hand as if it was a passing gesture with his conversation. She heeded the underlying instruction and remained where she was, but Hanzo could see the fire in her eyes. The sight of Satya strangling this man a good one was appealing.

“Fine. Is there anything I can help you with, Jesse McCree?”

“Kinda a mouthful. Jesse'll do.”

“McCree then,” Hanzo insisted. “So, is it true that Sugimoto-kumichou had acquired you from south?”

“Not wrong at all. Haven't been out the country before so I got to say this is the first. Though the means to do so were a little questionable if you ask me...”

“There is a saying not to eat what you've picked up from the ground, after all,” Hanzo had to withhold his grin and McCree's eyebrow raised at the suggestion. “Cease your act in front of me. Your formalities are an eyesore when you don't even mean them.” 

“No formalities? Just my kind of thing. Nice to meet you then, Hanners,” McCree grinned out and threw him a finger gun. Hanzo would've sputtered incoherently if it weren't for his image at stake. For his father. For his clan.

But still, this preposterous, down-right uncultured piece of-

“Young Lord Shimada!” A recognisable voice called out and Hanzo had to tear his attention away from McCree, be it for the better or worse.

A lady dress in a glittering royal blue dress nearly sweeping the floors headed in his direction. A pale blue scarf draped over her elbows and they sway as she walked. Her brown hair was neatly tied into a high bun with a golden hair pin dangling a detailed flower, and it matched the simple gold necklace she wore. Her brown eyes lighted up at the sight of him behind an intricately designed pair of glasses as she waved with lace-covered hands.

“Shanzhu Zhou,” Hanzo greeted and bowed slightly as she approached. Out of the corner of his eyes, McCree lacked a suitable response to the approaching hostess and he had half a thought to bring the man to his knees with an arrow, if the pun was intended.

“Oh stop it. I do remember telling you that Mei was fine,” the giggle Ranfa-gumi's leader made was rather adorable. “I hope you've been well! Is Shimada-kumichou alright? I've been meaning to visit him but the preparations for this gathering had to take priority. I do sincerely apologise for it.”

“Do not apologise. Your gathering has been no less than welcoming. I am well, and father is too. He had merely overexerted himself as his body starts to have difficulty keeping up with his age. He does not grasp the concept of limit, you see,” Hanzo made a light-hearted joke and Mei giggled again.

“That's wonderful to hear that he is fine. Perhaps I can visit him sometime next week? Does he prefer apples or oranges?”

“He prefers oranges. Apples are a little hard for his liking.”

“Wonderful! I'm glad you're here to let me know.” Zhou peered over at McCree, as if only noticing him then. She gave him a welcoming smile, and he returned the gesture with another tip of his hat. “I shall bother you no longer! I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, Young Lord Shimada.”

Zhou stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Hanzo tensed up, but she took little notice of it before thanking him once more and excusing herself. It took every fibre in his body not to reach up and brush away the faint pink lipstick on his cheek.

“Seems like Shanzhu Zhou is particularly fond of you.”

Hanzo cleared his throat. “She is... pleasant. A wonderful lady any man could ever ask for.” He could almost feel McCree grinning next to him.

“But not this man, as far as I can tell.”

“Is this constant spying your master's order?”

“Nah, just a personal interest. I just like to observe people.”

The young master met the subordinate eye-to-eye. As usual, McCree's self-abolishment of the hierarchy system let different shades of brown eyes meet. It was unsettling.

“I have little interest in the female populace,” Hanzo replied solemnly.

“That much I could tell. It's easy to tell a guy's interest by the way he looks at things,” McCree tapped his right eye.

Hanzo scoffed as he turned to face the crowd before him. “And I suppose you have the prior experience?”

“Well I've only ever been with one guy... That make me gay I suppose?” The brunette rubbed his scruffy chin with a pondering look on his face. “Maybe.”

“I would have thought you were a decisive individual.”

“Maybe cuz I haven't found another person for me. That's probably it,” came a shrug. McCree straightened up, puffing his chest proudly. “But if it was you, I wouldn't mind at all.”

Hanzo threw his head back and let out a genuine laugh, causing McCree to jump in surprise. Event-attendees nearby were also stunned by the sudden laughter, but returned to their own business as quickly when nothing was of their concern. Hanzo sized up to the other man, brows furrowed as his head tilted back proudly with arms crossed over his chest.

“Understand the differences between us, dog. Your wishful thinking and unbridled mouth will land you somewhere unpleasant.”

“Perhaps,” hummed the brunette. “But your side doesn't seem too bad.”

Hearing that line had Hanzo genuinely stunned. His eyes were widened slightly, but McCree hadn't been looking at him all these while. His eyes were glued to a phone.

“See ya later, Hanners. Boss calls.” McCree tossed him a two-fingered salute and walked off without so much of a glance back.

Hanzo gritted his teeth, not knowing if the feeling in his chest was anger, embarrassment or something else.

“Satya,” Hanzo called out, and the lady stepped out from where she had been observing all the while. “Prepare the car. I require a drop off.”

“Understood, Shimada-dono.”

* * *

  
  
“Jesse McCree?” Jack repeated the name from where he laid on the bed, short blond hair disheveled and blanket barely covering his backside as it plastered low against his hips. He ransacked his memories a little, but found nothing. “I've been in New Mexico for a while, but I can't say I'm familiar with the name.”

“Hmph. It would have been good if the name rang any bells, but that is of little importance I suppose. To sum it up, he's a desert mutt now serving one of the biggest Yakuza clans in New Country,” Hanzo replied from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed. He was about to light a cigarette when it was abruptly snatched out of his hand and tossed halfway across the room. He forgo the thought of smoking then, though it has yet to stop him from trying in Jack's apartment since he knew the man.

“Uncultured, unrefined and worse than a pig in a sty.”

Jack let out a chuckle. “Seems like this guy's able to get under your skin so easily. You usually come over for a fuck, but you hardly talk about anything else. Was he the cause of your unusual aggression in bed today?”

That was something Hanzo hadn't quite noticed, and he cleared his throat as if to banish the menace that had been haunting his thoughts since Ranfa-gumi's gathering.

“Think little of it. It is not something the police can handle anyway.”

There was a subtle tilt of Jack's head. “This is probably a question long overdue but... why did you save me that night, anyway? I would've thought you yakuzas hated the cops. It couldn't just be for my looks now, can it?”

Hanzo let out a subtle quirk at the corner of his lips as he reached over to the figure laid out in bed. Jack never flinched, but his eyes did close in reflex when warm digits gentle caressed the double scars that sliced two points of his face: above his left eye down to his right cheek and vertically over his lip. The touch was familiar, calming.

“This is proof that you belong to me, Jack Morrison. Though from your plate, I've yet to hear about the fateful story that had led me to you.”

Upon those words, Jack's hand snatched the wrist off his face as corn blue eyes glared in the yakuza's direction. It was rare of him to react adversely, but Hanzo did not let it affect him... yet.

“I owe you nothing more than my life. My history is not part of it,” Jack released the wrist and turned away, presumably intending to head to the bathroom but Hanzo was having none of that. The smaller male grabbed the blond locks between his digits and forced Jack's head upwards as their lips met. The clash of teeth was animalistic, rough and without affection. Jack took it as a chance to enact revenge and a small but deep nick was delivered.

Hanzo pulled back without so much of a flinch as he swiped the blood off his lips. Jack on the other hand was glaring, but the blood looked good on him too. Despite losing several inches to the taller male, Hanzo's dominant streak was overpowering, but Jack did little to counter it.

“I may be your saviour, but as you said I am Yakuza. Do not underestimate me for it, for I will use every weakness of yours to my advantage.”

The young master picked his discarded shirt from the floor, ignoring the scowl directed his way. He wore his clothing, tossing a look over his shoulder where Jack was still sulking behind crossed arms on his knees.

“See to it if you can find out more about Jesse McCree on your end. Now that Akagana-gumi is active in New Country, the balance of things may tip. I will inform you of anything important from my side.”

He received no response, and expected none as he exited Jack's apartment. Hanzo took the lift down the five storey building, and only a street cat greeted him. The last he checked, the clock read 4.38am. Satya had returned to the main estate with the driver after receiving the order that he would return in the morning. He contemplated getting a cab back after smoking, since he was denied that in Jack's home.

Hanzo was about to light up his cigarette, but decided against it. He crushed the cigarette before tossing it into the nearby bin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a nutshell, New Country the collective term for several countries combining together as a single unit. The places within this is still addressed normally, for example: Japan, Hong Kong, etc As you can see, the chosen areas are mostly Eastern, to which it's almost safe that New Country is basically future Asia. However, the ties between the countries, mixed with colonial influences bloom a new culture (eg. Universal language with racial dialects). Not forgetting, this story's setting is sort of also in the future, but doesn't include the omnics and such. Take it as our real world but in the distant future where everything is cross-cultural.

Hanzo had to relent to the small party celebrating in his success. It was thanks to him that the software was functioning and it saved the company millions. Not that it would have mattered if said million was going to be splurged on expensive food and drinks... Nevertheless, he smiled and raised his glass to every one that clanked with his. He'd have to had about six beers and two shots by now, but the celebratory party didn't seem to be coming to a closure at the bar. The heat from the alcohol was starting to make him mildly irritated.

“To Sakuguchi-san!” One of his younger co-workers, clearly drunk off his ass as the individual was hiked up on the table top with a tie wrapped around his forehead. It was a hilarious sight to see, but Hanzo wasn't appreciating the socked foot on the table. He raised his glass, taking a sip before having the need to excuse himself from his other four rowdy colleagues and boss.

His tolerance for alcohol was high, but even then he had his limit, and he was dangerously close to it. Hanzo leaned up against the bar counter. When he was tended to, he requested a glass of water, to which he subsequently downed quickly.

“Careful there, Hanners. Wouldn't be good if everything came out the same way in,” a familiar, irritating southern accent instantly had him bristling.

Hanzo glared to the side where a recognisable brunette was seated at the bar counter. He must be losing it if he couldn't notice a man dressed in a goddamn cowboy hat situated merely two seats away. But it wasn't only the hat that got his attention. Unlike the gathering at Ranfa-gumi's, McCree was wearing a tasteless red plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of faded denim jeans. He looked ridiculously normal.

“What are you doing here?” Hanzo growled out, keeping his voice low. The bar's serenading music was kept low, but it was mostly the patrons causing a ruckus. But he wasn't going to risk their conversation to be overhead by civilians.

“Can't a man find himself a good ol' bar to hang out? This bar ain't exactly _private_.” By private, he meant owned by a specific clan. Many places were ungoverned if they were settled in neutral zones. The law is fair across all organisations, be it Yakuza, triads and others. Any incident between any of such groups was forbidden in the neutral zones, and while it was broken time to time, the rule was upheld by most.

“Of all places in New Country... I _suppose_ this has a better wine collection than most bars around here,” Hanzo mentally sulked. “Jesse McCree, I believe?” Not that he would have forgotten such a name.

“In the flesh.” A hat tip. “This is a coincidence, I assure you. I've been spending the week learning New Country front and back. Like I've said, I haven't really got the chance to travel outta my hometown, so this is a pretty new experience for me.”

Hanzo had the chance to notice that the man's left arm adorned a tattoo while his arm was raised and attached to the hat. He hadn't realised he had been staring and analysing the symbol on the skin: it was a human skull flanked by a pair of wings. Peculiar enough, there was a positive space on the skull that suggested an eye patch. Banners sandwiched the top and bottom of the skull with the words 'Deadlock' and 'Rebels', and there was even the year of establishment stating 1976.

“I see you've sincerely dedicated your life to a certain organisation that isn't Akagana-gumi,” Hanzo stated, eyes never once leaving the tattoo which took up half of McCree's lower left arm.

“Oh this? Nah, nothin' to do with Sugimoto-kumichou or any syndicate. This was done as representation of the one person who was important to me. Someone whom I killed with my own hands.”

Tilting his head a tiny fraction, Hanzo persisted with mild confusion: “Why did you kill them if they were important to you?”

“Because I'd rather he died by my hands than others.”

Hanzo narrowed his gaze. He knew a traitor when he met one. “Saying such words does not make you sound the least bit heroic. Karma will come knocking at your doorstep.”

McCree let out a laugh. “Yeah, someday, it's gonna come around and bite me back in the ass.”

“I await for that day-!?” _“Sakuguchiiiii!”_ A slurred voice interrupted and Hanzo jumped when he received a bear-hug from behind him. He nearly threw an elbow into the man's temple, but he was intercepted by McCree's large hand that acted quick enough to prevent a civilian's demise.

“Let's hit the other bar! Heard they've got nice ladies to accompany you!” Hiccuped Ajackson, the boss of the small company Hanzo worked at. The latter started to shows signs of discontent as he tried to pry off his drunk boss

“Shachou, you are drunk and not well enough to be parading about for company,” Hanzo gritted out as he successfully freed himself. “I shall make arrangements so that you can get your drunken self back home.”

“Seems like you've got your hands full,” McCree grinned despite the death glare sent his way.

Ajackson lit up at the sight of the man wearing a hat and teased: “Ooooh, you've got a date already!”

“Please make no mistake, I have no idea who this individual is,” Hanzo said quickly and took his boss by the front of his shirt. The man was simply giggling to himself and going 'woo!'. “Shachou's wasted. I'm sending him home,” he announced loudly to his three other colleagues who were still some-what sober enough to reply. They waved their goodbyes before being engrossed with their prior conversation over alcohol. Luckily for them, the day after was a Sunday, but there was no day off for a Yakuza.

With some effort, Hanzo was able to haul his boss into a cab and handed the cabby the address to his home. The whole episode concluded with a message to the founder of the company, informing him that his drunken son was enroute home. That much he could do even when his steps wavered slightly.

“Seems like a pain to put effort into socialising,” McCree approached from behind him and Hanzo glowered over his shoulder as the man approaching with a lit cigar in his mouth. “Sure it's ok to just let him go like this?”

“He will be fine. On the other hand, are you not going to offer a ride back?” Maybe it was the influence of the alcohol, but Hanzo felt entitled to demand. Or perhaps the sense of authority made him feel better.

“How could I be rude and refuse?” Mused the brunette as he tossed the cigar to the floor and ground it out. McCree started off in a certain direction, presumably towards his vehicle and Hanzo scoffed, but followed.

Around the corner, a few blocks down, was a fancy black car with tinted windows. McCree had the back passenger door opened, and Hanzo stepped in without a word. It earned a raised brow, because McCree hadn't expected the young lord to board an enemy's car without hesitation. There was no fear in the man's eyes, only a dark scowl for procrastinating his ride home.

“Move,” Hanzo barked out and McCree snapped out of his stupor.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses,” he chuckled back and shut the door. He rounded over to the driver's seat and got in. He started the engine and the car rumbled quietly.

“I believe you know where my place is?” Came a question from the back.

Brown eyes flickered to the rear-view mirror to meet darker ones. “Without a doubt.”

“Good.” And those eyes closed.

McCree had to swallow his chuckle of amusement. In the right mind, he doubted Hanzo would simply accept a car ride from an enemy. The alochol must've gotten to his head to a fair extent. Without another word, McCree started his drive to the Shimada-gumi estate.

* * *

 

Hanzo had passed out halfway through the car ride. That much can be observed from where Jesse sat, having checked on the young master every other minute. Hanzo was leaning heavily against the back seat, head dropped to the point that his chin rested on his chest. Crossed arms were loose and relaxed over his core. His entire body sagged, threatening to keen over with every turn the car made. Without any form of background noise, the even breathing was more audible than the car's running engine.

This was his chance.

Pulling over to the road shoulder, Jesse took a quick glance once more in the rear view mirror just to be sure the Shimada-gumi heir was truly unconscious. No response was given after a minute the car stopped and Jesse took the gun from his holster as he exited the driver's seat.

Even opening the back door didn't rouse the sleeping individual. Jesse removed the safety of his gun and pointed it straight at Hanzo's head. At this range, it would take more than a miracle for the young master to live through this assault.

His trigger finger twitched slightly at the thought of his boss being successful should he execute this kill. They would still have the head Shimada Soujirou and the second son Shimada Genji to deal with, but the loss of the first heir would be a devastating blow to Shimada-gumi. Hanzo's death could be easily passed off as an accident; drunk driving.

Jesse McCree always wore gloves for a reason.

It was such a shame for the thirty-four year old to die today. If Hanzo had been a little uglier, he might have hesitated less. But when he first laid eyes on the Yakuza leader a mere two years younger, Jesse was undeniably drawn to him. Hanzo probably didn't realise that he garnered looks from every corner wherever he went. Whether he was dressed to kill in suit and tie, or in semi-formals at the bar, eyes turned to him with interest.

Jesse was no different, spying on the male ever since he walked into bar. In fact he found the getup the young lord had adorned today was rather charming – a collared shirt, pants with a slight stains at the knees (from over-kneeling, perhaps?) and a cute pair of gold, thinly framed glasses that suppressed his sombre nature. He was completely different with people who weren't his underlings.

Staring at Hanzo sleeping, Jesse was entranced by the slow rise and fall of his chest. For once, he wasn't directed with a glare or undesirable look. He'd live his past years under such scrutiny that it came as no surprise that the young lord viewed him no differently. It was his own doing, that much he knew. Ever since he bound himself to Talon, Jesse McCree became a shadow; a person who could never touch the light ever again. He wasted away soaked in blood time after time, aimlessly following orders every single time.

His new boss gave him a slight change of pace and environment. It wasn't any much different from working under his previous syndicate of Talon. However, as the right hand man of Akagana-gumi's head, one of New Country's most powerful Yakuza clan leader, Jesse found a moment's entertainment.

Winning his rank was easy; the Ordanian man was good, but Jesse was better and the Talon grunt proved it. After doing away with the previous right hand man, Jesse got on his knee and promised to serve. Sugimoto was impressed so to say the least, and took Jesse in without question. Time after time, with each completed task that was handed to Jesse (interrogate, steal or assassinate), he won the favour of the head and was officially promoted a year back.

It took him three years during their time in Old Orleans to prove himself worthy enough to follow Akagana-gumi back to New Country. And here he was now, staring at the sworn enemy of the clan he served.

His boss has given him a detailed background information on his biggest rival clan, the Shimada-gumi. Soujirou, the current kumichou, is old and ready to retire with his wife Tachibana Kimiko and hand his clan to the first son, Shimada Hanzo. Hanzo was a serious, diligent son who traced his father's footsteps. The second son, Shimada Genji, led a carefree life as he was not bound by clan duties. Each Shimada member had goals and motivations of their own.

Jesse McCree had none. He thought he had it all. Sure, he wasn't the leader of anything, but he'd always lived as a follower - a powerful follower. Whilst he still listened to the orders of Akagana-gumi's head, he was the boss of everyone else. In fact, Sugimoto had let him running nearly most of the operations within the clan because he was just that effective.

Despite doing all of that though, he felt empty. Towards the Shimada family, jealousy would be too strong of a word to describe his current feeling.

Maybe that was why he scorned Hanzo. The man had everything: a family, a supportive environment and last but not least, the motivation to keep Shimada-gumi going. He loathed the man's confidence and proud but sincere heart. He wanted to tear man down, break that high horse streak and trample on weaknesses he never knew he had. Perhaps it would give him a sense of achievement after all these wayward years of boredom.

“ _Fool!”_ The man before him barked all of a sudden and Jesse nearly pulled on the trigger. It sounded as if he was being scolded for his thoughts.

With the only source of lighting from the lamp post nearby, he couldn't see his target's expression. He damn near scurried to hide his gun while his initially calm heart was now skipping erratically.

Hanzo's head merely lolled to the side, expressionless. His lips continued to move, but no further words were vocalised. Jesse realised then that Hanzo was merely sleeptalking. Never in his life would he have thought that a revered leader like Hanzo had a sleeptalking quirk. It was rather cute, as was the crooked pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose.

The burning desire in his chest dwindled. His hand slackened, dropping the gun. Taking a deep breath, he flicked the safety catch of his gun back on and put it away in his holster. He readjusted the glasses so that it sat properly on bridge of the other's nose. As quietly as he could, he shut the door before returning to the driver seat.

Never once did Hanzo rouse.

* * *

 

When he finally did, Hanzo woke with a sharp jerk as if ice had just touched him. He had a startling dream, but his lucid mind could recall none of the events that led to his awakening. Maybe it had been a subconscious reflex as a careful person, but that trait didn't show as his heart pounded while his mind tried to make sense of his surroundings.

He was still in McCree's car. Alive, and unhurt. Nothing on his person had been meddled with. Looking out the windows, he could see the autumn cherry blossom trees although they were dulled by the lack of lighting. The sun had yet to rise, so it meant that he had not been asleep for too long.

Feeling a headache beginning to present itself, he removed the hair tie that kept his locks up. He mentally sighed at the relief of tightness on his scalp. He belatedly realised that the Akagana servant was absent from the driver's seat. Frowning, he peered around and about only to find the man nearly hidden behind a blind spot from where he sat, smoking against his vehicle.

Hanzo stepped out of the car and straightened himself. It was instantaneous that he recognised the setting; the cherry blossom trees were multiple generation's worth of decor along the road leading to the land Shamada-gumi owned. The front gates are a mere twenty feet away, quiet and unwelcoming with the sight of two massive ornate dragons on bronze doors.

"What are you doing?" The young master questioned with a hint of annoyance.

McCree seemed genuinely startled by his voice and looked over his shoulder. He plucked the cigar from his mouth between his index and middle fingers with the finesse of a bear and a grin was directed at Hanzo over the hood of the car.

"You were sleeping so soundly that I thought it would be a shame to wake ya."

Brows furrowed.

"I'm surprised you hadn't tried anything considering the state I was in."

A big shrug with raised arms was given in response, and the nonchalance in McCree's posture had Hanzo's eye twitching.

"Sure, the chance probably won't come again that easily, but I ain't the type to stoop. It'll be shooting fish in a barrel. Where's the fun in that?" The brunette took a drag of his cigar as he met Hanzo's gaze. "It's a lot more fun seeing the fear in people's eyes before they die. Bonus if you hear them beg and plea."

"Absurd," the younger man spat. "Lives are not a toy for you to play with. This is why Akagana-gumi has such tainted reputation. Because of men like you."

"Men like me? What's this pot calling kettle black," McCree grinned as he leaned on the hood of his car. "When it comes down to the roots we're all the same, Hanners."

"Do not lump me with lowly beings such as yourself, mutt," Hanzo replied calmly before glaring daggers at the other. "You shall address me properly by Young Lord, or by the least Shimada, if your feeble-minded brain cannot comprehend titles." He strutted away from the car and its owner.

“If you say so, Shimada,” were the last words before Hanzo heard the car behind him start up. He chose not to look back, proceeding to the double gates of the Shimada-gumi estate. Upon reaching it, they opened automatically, and the two subordinates of his on night duty welcomed him home. He waved a hand in dismissal and they returned to their posts.

He stormed to his room and shut the door behind him. Hanzo tore the glasses off his face and threw it on his work desk. He very nearly set his fist against the wall, but it would him no good beside angering himself over the residual pain. He walked over to the wall next to his large, four-post bed and faced two weapons that were ceremoniously displayed.

There was a katana and a bow. They were treasured gifts for him by his parents on his twenty-first birthday; his coming-of-age ceremony. Traditionally, every Shimada family member would receive a special weapon to call their own.

Crafted by the finest hands, the family behind the worksmanship was dedicated to the Shimada family since the light of dawn, and in return the Shimadas have provided them everything they could ask for. Hanzo received his blade _Tomoyuki no Ryu_ , named after man who made the sword for him. His katana was slightly heavier than usual, but no less powerful. He was the person who would keep the clan on its feet, grounded by his toughness and resilience.

Genji's sword was bestowed the name _Ryuichi Moji_ , made by the same person but carved with a difference. _Ryuichi Moji_ was sleek compared to _Tomoyuki no Ryu_ and capable of splitting the skulls of enemies in a single stroke. Unlike his brother, Genji was to _be_ the blade - to be the 'secret' weapon of the Shimada clan. Genji poured his entire being to forge the blade into reflection of his soul – swift, fiery and unrivaled. Thus far, no man could win the flamboyant male who could deflect bullets with a mere _wakizashi_.

Hanzo knelt and bowed to the weapons, a ritual never lost or forgotten. The Shimadas had always believed that with the presentation of a weapon, they would be blessed with the protection of a dragon. Tales of old said that the spirit of dragons could be summoned to their master's aid and decimate their enemies in a blink of an eye. They were powerful servants that were respected as equals to their masters. It was also a reason for the Shimada-gumi to be feared since the olden times to this very modern day.

Whilst it was a mere folklore, the Shimadas treasued it and followed traditions to this day. If anything, Hanzo was special, for he possessed not one, but two dragons.

Flicking his gaze up, he rose to his feet and removed _Arashi no Yumi_ from its resting slot with both hands. Hanzo had always been in tune with the art of the bow since young, but was no less skilled with the sword. He was one of the few rare Shimadas who had two weapons bestowed upon them.

Hanzo handled his bow with a mix of roughness and care as he walked through the halls of his home. He entered the training dojo and retrieved a full quiver. He slung it over his shoulder and grabbed his _mitsugake_ from the shelves. Normally, he would take the time to dress formally for training, but he was too angry with the night's events that he skipped on it. No one was up during this hour to watch him, and he was too pent up to care.

Adjusting his stance, he took an arrow from the quiver and positioned it. The moment he drew the arrow, his thoughts kicked in.

Tonight was a fluke under the influence of alcohol. Under no circumstances should he have relaxed knowing that Akagana-gumi had returned. Eyes and ears of Sugimoto would be everywhere, and every move they made could be spied on and taken advantage of.

He had every reason to be suspicious of Akagana-gumi's sudden return – his father's soon-to-be retirement, and his concurrent rise as the next head. Sugimoto now had a wild card on his side; someone he had no prior knowledge of from another well-known shadowed organisation by the name of Talon (borderline terrorists, he deduced). Everything was at risk, and it would only take one wrong move for the domino effect.

 _Thwack._ Three inches from the centre target. Hanzo reloaded _Arashi no Yumi_.

The normalcy he had tried for had to end. Hanzo had to reduce the number of weaknesses he had. The last thing he'd want was Akagana to put civilians into the equation. Syndicates usually let their wards be private, but if Sugimoto was a man who favoured breaking traditions, it was a big risk to handle. Thus, Hanzo would have to re-focus his efforts on keeping his clan safe, and those outside of it.

 _Thwack._ This time, the arrow struck a little closer to home. The running processes in his mind was starting to weave itself with more care, and everything would eventually piece together.

He cannot let one man be the cause of an entire clan's downfall. For all he knew, McCree might just be the biggest thorn on his side with his nonchalant personality. He had no idea what to expect from the cowboy-wannabe, and if there was one thing Hanzo hated, it was surprises. He prided himself in being able to read his enemies carefully and use their weakness to his advantage. His keen observations was nearly always on point, and he'd easily manipulate his target to his will.

But not McCree. The man had a mind of his own, unbarred by the traditions and laws of the Yakuza. An ill-bred brought into a system of strict hierarchy was a recipe for disaster. 'The true enemy of humanity is disorder', as what his secretary would always say.

Hanzo had to get rid of Jesse McCree as soon as the chance presented itself. It would be tricky, but he would find a way. A Shimada watched over by the dragons could always garner the strength to tear their enemies apart, and this would be no different.

 _Thwack._ His arrow struck the heart of his target. Only then was he contented to lower his bow for the night.

The next morning, Satya knocked on her boss' door at eight sharp. It was a consistent knock of three reps. She waited for a response and at exactly a minute, she entered. It was necessary to breach as received no message from the night before on his absence from the estate.

When she opened the door that yielded a symbol of a pair of ouroboros dragons, she was surprised to see Hanzo awake, but at his work desk. The man had heavy bags under his eyes, but he was fully conscious. Before she could formally greet him, she was interrupted by his action of holding out a brown envelope.

“Send my resignation to Ajackson.”

Satya wanted to ask about the sudden decision that happened overnight, but it was not her place to question the leader unless absolutely necessary. “Understood,” she replied as she walked over to receive the envelope. She straightened up when she heard Hanzo speaking:

“Father's words have finally dawned on me. Initially, I believed it was a good idea to integrate myself with people outside syndicates, believing that it would do me well. Now I realise that it simply meant that it expanded the dangers to the community that shouldn't be involved,” he paused. “It is time I direct my fullest attention to father's legacy. I trust that I will have you on my side?”

Satya placed her right palm over her chest and bowed low without hesitation. “I, Aswani Satya, will follow you, Shimada-dono, to the very end. I will shield you.”

Hanzo couldn't help but give a nod of approval. He took a quick look at the papers settled on his desk that were vital documents to the clan. His mind fast-forwarded to the thought of Akagana obtaining such assets. It was an impending doom.

He had no choice but to crush Akagana-gumi and wipe the clan off the face of the earth, starting with a very, very specific cowboy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you can bear with me while I flesh things out from this AU! Do leave comments, I like to hear from you, too.


End file.
